


Close Encounters

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aliens, Fawnlock, First Contact, Hand Jobs, Misunderstandings, Other, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3210086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I feel like there's not really any point in summarizing the "plot" of this fic. You're either going to want to read Fawnlock tentacle porn or you're not. But I hope you are. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Encounters

It was a crash unlike anything Fawnlock had heard in his life: as grating and discordant as the chainsaws and trucks that terrorised the edges of his forest, but as sudden and brief as a lightning strike. 

And even if he did not possess such keen ears as he did, the direction of the crash would have been obvious: just go in the opposite direction that all the creatures in the wood were currently fleeing in. Fawnlock had done that plenty of times before, running towards what every bird, rabbit, and squirrel were running _from_ at the time. And sometimes he was sorry he had, but he just couldn't help his curiosity, and more often than not it turned out to be something interesting, which is what was important. He was not completely reckless; he darted among the trees, maintaining some semblance of cover as he approached. The fog that had rolled in was thick, but it was no cover at close quarters. 

Moving nearer the source of the noise and destruction, he found himself no closer to being able to determine what it was, precisely. It emitted no light, and so in the fog it was just a dark, amorphous shape amongst the dark, amorphous forest. It was certainly enormous, perhaps the size of John's cabin, though not shaped like that at all, more oblong, and misshapen from its presumably unexpected collision with the ground. 

About the time that Fawnlock was able to identify the object as being made of metal, he noticed distinct movement, seemingly a struggle, near the part of the object that was crumpled against the forest floor. He recognised distress when he saw it; and moved with less caution now, right up to the big metal thing, so that he might help. Many flailing arms slapped against the bent metal, and Fawnlock pulled on protruding bits of wreckage to widen the gap through which the arms were trying to push. As he did this, he was rewarded with the sight of even more arms. And when, at last, the gap was wide enough, the arms gripped the metal edges so that their owner might haul themselves out...and to Fawnlock's surprise, the arms _were_ the owner; the creature appeared to be composed entirely of limbs. 

As the creature situated itself, Fawnlock watched as it became quite tall – nearly as tall as he was – and then settled into a lesser height that took up more space on the ground. That was when Fawnlock realised what this creature was. He had seen it in one of John's books. John had explained that the creature did not live in the lakes or rivers, only in the ocean, the big water that Fawnlock wanted to be taken to so that he might swim in it, though John said this could be dangerous. Fawnlock's own language had no word for the creature, so instead, he pointed at it and said the word in human language:

“Octopus!” 

Fawnlock waited to have his spectacular insight recognised, but several seconds went by and the creature, though it moved slightly, did not seem to react specifically to Fawnlock's exclamation. 

“Hello? Octopus?” But still nothing. Fawnlock tried to greet the creature in the language of the forest, but this also was to no avail. The creature was making a noise, but it was a soft, odd combination of slithering and squelching, incomprehensible to him. He could not even tell where the sound was coming from, as the creature had no mouth. 

It also had no eyes or ears. It was like a worm. Ah! Fawnlock knew all about worms; for example, even though worms did not have eyes or ears, they knew where to go and what to do when they got there. 

“Worm,” he said. Again, this seemed to make no difference to the creature. But Fawnlock also stomped on the ground, that way the creature could feel where he was, even if it could not see him. And that did the trick; the creature moved towards him in a coy fashion, stretching out slowly with its appendages in several directions until the tip of one of them made contact with Fawnlock's arm. Once it had, it slithered around until it circled his wrist, but not tightly, just to gauge its circumference. Fawnlock reached out in kind, to feel the appendage with his fingers. It was soft and slippery, like a frog, but it wriggled like a fish. Fawnlock knew all about frogs, and he knew all about fish, but he had never before seen the two combined into one creature that walked on the ground. 

Now the creature was reaching out with many of its arms, feeling at him tentatively. Any other animal in the forest would have leapt away, fearing an attack, but Fawnlock suspected that if the creature meant to trap and devour him, it would already have done. Instead, it was moving in that curious, deliberate way that Fawnlock did, when he reached into a hole in the ground or in a tree, feeling his way slowly to get an idea of what was inside when he wasn't able to see it. That's what the creature was doing. Since it didn't have eyes, it had to touch Fawnlock in order to make a picture in its mind of what he looked like. 

And so the creature grasped gently at him, and he touched it as well, until they were a tangle of inquisitive limbs. Appendages twined their way through his mop of dark curls and up the velvety branches of his antlers, and gave him a start when they simultaneously brushed across his tail. Fawnlock tried to prove himself the more inquisitive one. When an appendage touched his face, felt out his features, he held it still with both hands and gave it a sniff and a lick. It tasted funny, like nothing he knew. He released it to reach out and feel for any sort of feature or protrusion that might prove itself to be a sensory organ, but it was not long before he was distracted by how nice all the appendages felt on his body. They made their gentle but deliberate way up his thighs while at the same time making a survey of his belly. It was quite like being in John's bed, but more so, because although John did his very best to touch Fawnlock all over, he could only do a bit at a time, with his two hands. This creature had no such limitations. 

When one of the creature's limbs encountered Fawnlock's soft little penis, hidden away in his fur, it seemed to pay it much closer attention. Perhaps the creature suspected that it was discovering Fawnlock's own set of sensory appendages. But he only had the one, and it didn't serve quite the same purpose. He didn't have all the human words to convey that, and he made an attempt to say it in the language of the forest, but he was soon overcome by the nice feeling in his penis. The creature had it in a pleasant but secure grip; unlike the rest of Fawnlock, his penis changed size and shape, and so the creature couldn't seem to get the measure of it before it needed to recalculate. Thus, it stroked him up and down, several times over, until he was fully hard and feeling tingly. Then it happened all over again, down below that, with his furry sack, which tightened up against his body as he became more aroused. 

Once the creature was satisfied that it had discovered and cataloged every inch of his body, it began to retreat, and its limbs spread out in such a way that it might make its way across the forest floor. Fawnlock, aroused and unsatisfied, was not pleased at this turn of events. A grunt of frustration escaped his throat as he reflexively grabbed one of the appendages and pulled it back towards himself. He manipulated it so that it wrapped around his penis several times, and then thrust into it. He reached out, and gathered the creature to him, so that he might allow his legs to go wobbly and support himself against the creature's changeable but sturdy form. 

The creature seemed to have some idea of what was going on, because it braced itself to support Fawnlock's weight, and returned its many limbs to encircle his body, holding him tightly until Fawnlock's little cock spat its load onto the creature's wriggling, slippery body. Immediately Fawnlock was embarrassed; he might have made the creature angry by spilling where he had. The creature _seemed_ unfazed by what had just happened, but John had a set of rules about where it was okay to make a mess and where it wasn't. 

Thinking of John, Fawnlock quickly forgot about the social error he might have just committed, and decided that John needed to meet this creature as well. Perhaps it came from the city (like John did), and had sort of wandered out here (like John had). Maybe John knew what it was. Fawnlock grasped the creature by the appendage that had been pleasuring him, and tugged at it so that he might lead it to John's cabin. The creature was apparently amenable, for it lumbered along to match his pace.

 

*****

 

As dusk fell, John opened the door one more time and had a quick glance around. He had thought that Fawnlock might visit him that evening, but there was no sign of him, nosing around and marking in the garden as he sometimes did. A fog was rolling in, but John did not know Fawnlock well enough to know if that would deter him from making the journey to the cabin. At last, John went back in the house, closed the door, and turned the deadbolt. 

John had explained to Fawnlock several times about the door. He had to keep it locked because otherwise bad people might come in, and try to take John's things or hurt him. Fawnlock's solution – to abandon the cabin entirely and come live in the woods with him – did not appeal to John for some reason. And so John had explained that if Fawnlock wanted to visit, he had to knock on the door, and John would let him in. More often than not, Fawnlock would see John through the window first, as he approached the cabin, and would get excited and knock on the window instead. It could be very disconcerting for John, to be reading quietly and then be suddenly startled out of his reverie by a banging on the glass and a face peering in. 

Tonight, Fawnlock had the creature with him, but it was fairly short at the moment, and could not be seen through the window. John was sitting on the sofa in his dressing gown and slippers, his nose in a book. Fawnlock giggled when he tapped on the glass and John jumped in his seat and dropped the book. With a sigh, John stood up, went to unlock the door, then proceeded into the kitchen to put the kettle on and make up a plate of carrots and apple slices (Fawnlock always showed up ravenous). He nearly dropped the plate in surprise when he returned to the sitting room to find that his woodland friend was accompanied by a four-foot-tall, aubergine-hued tentacle monster. 

“What the fuck is this now?” he shouted, with such force that Fawnlock cowered. “What is this thing? Where did it come from?” The creature paid no heed; it leisurely pawed at John's coffee table and rug while Fawnlock struggled to explain. Human language was rough on his throat, so he mimed most of the story, punctuating it with a few words. “Bang. Help. Octopus. Worm. Friend.” 

John had no idea what Fawnlock was on about, though he managed to puzzle out one gesture. “Did he...come from the sky?” 

Fawnlock nodded excitedly. “Crash!” 

“Well, that's fantastic,” John huffed. “You were worried that you hadn't done anything sufficiently bizarre lately to baffle me, so you've brought an alien from outer space into my home.” 

“Friend,” Fawnlock said. 

“Oh, he's your friend. That's alright, then, I don't know what I was so worried about.” 

Having thoroughly surveyed everything within its reach, the creature began to move towards John, whose presence he could sense through the vibrations in the floor. John backed away in fright, until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the sofa. He leapt up onto the cushions, grabbing the table lamp – the nearest object suitable for use as a weapon – and brandishing it, all while Fawnlock shouted in distress, “Friend! Friend!” 

The creature seemed to sense that something was amiss, and shrank back to where Fawnlock stood. Fawnlock wrapped his arms around the creature and stroked it. A few of the creature's tentacles reached out to feel Fawnlock's limbs, and John intuited that there was a familiarity there, like the creature could recognise Fawnlock by touch. 

John set the lamp back on the table and climbed down from the sofa. This made Fawnlock happy; John obviously wanted to make friends with the creature now, so he gave it a little shove in John's direction. The creature flailed a bit, and several of its limbs came to rest on John's body. It immediately resumed the careful curiosity it had displayed with Fawnlock earlier in the evening, caressing the fabric of John's dressing gown. After a few moments, it reached out with another tentacle to feel Fawnlock's fur. Fawnlock laughed; he understood what was going on – the creature was trying to determine whether John's clothing was a different kind of fur. He did not think it very sporting to complicate things for the creature, so he bounced over to John and untied the sash of his dressing gown, then yanked on the arms of it until it fell to the floor. 

This may have served to baffle the creature even further, because it followed the crumpled fabric down, poking at it as it lay in a pool around John's feet. John squawked in protest at what Fawnlock had done, until the tentacles began to make their careful way back up his body, at which point he became very quiet and still. 

As much as Fawnlock's antics sometimes frustrated him, John trusted his delight at the situation – Fawnlock was highly perceptive. He sensed and understood danger acutely, and he was very protective of John. If John were in any peril, Fawnlock would not be bouncing up and down with joy at the situation in which they'd all found themselves. And so he allowed the warm, soft appendages to explore and travel up his thighs. They did not tickle him, even as they caressed the sensitive skin over his hipbones or along his sides. John shocked himself with the thought that it might be nice to be engulfed in such warmth and softness. When a tentacle wandered over his cock and balls, he began to tremble; the creature's skilled, heated touch felt particularly nice there. “He _is_ friendly, isn't he?” John remarked. 

But apparently, the creature had realised that John and Fawnlock's frames were quite similar in nature. As its limbs advanced, they began to sweep more cursorily, just confirm that John's arms and head were indeed in the same location and orientation. It paid more detailed attention to his facial features and his hair, but once it had done this, it seemed just as satisfied as it had having explored Fawnlock, and in half the time. 

As the creature retreated, John heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed, leaving himself vulnerable to the creature's affectionate tackle moments later. 

He collapsed onto the sofa as the creature pressed close, and now he felt the tentacles insinuating themselves between his thighs and under his arms. One limb wrapped itself around the shaft of John's cock, bringing it at last to full hardness as it tugged at him. John couldn't help but moan deeply; Fawnlock was a wonderful and uninhibited bed companion, but this thing was squeezing his cock in a way that he imagined no earthly creature could. 

As for Fawnlock himself, when John looked over, he found him looking utterly pleased with himself, like he'd just found the two friends that he'd introduced to each other earlier in the evening getting along like gangbusters, having found some common interest. John snapped, “Did you teach this thing that this is how Earthlings greet each other?” 

Fawnlock shook his head innocently, because he hadn't taught the creature that _on purpose_ – it had been an accident. 

Understanding that the alien was not trying to seduce him – that it was doing what it was doing merely to be _diplomatic_ – for some reason made John's dick even harder, and he began to thrust of his own accord against the tentacle that was holding him so snugly, whilst so many others coiled and uncoiled sinuously around him. When he felt his orgasm approaching, he did not hold back, but gave a low rumbling groan as it came. The creature did not relent, but continued to embrace and stroke him until Fawnlock, knowing how sensitive John became after orgasm, gently pried the creature away from him. 

John enjoyed only a few seconds of languid satisfaction before he opened his eyes and realised what he had done. He lunged forward to grope for his dressing gown, putting it on in he hopes that it would conceal his sudden mortification. 

“Well, that's brilliant,” he said. “I was already an interspecies pervert, now I'm an intergalactic pervert, _and_ I have an alien in my house that I don't know what to do with.” 

Fawnlock had a solution all ready to go. He mimed it, accompanied by a few squeaks and growls of his own language, but John was nonplussed. Finally, Fawnlock said, “Live in forest,” beaming at the very idea of it. 

But John was horrified at this suggestion “We can't just set it loose now! It thinks that wanking someone off is a proper way to greet them. What if it's an ambassador and it wants to meet the Queen? Hell, what if they take it to a secret government laboratory and they find my spunk on it? I don't want my face in the papers because I was the first earth-man to have had a...a close encounter of the fourth, or fifth, or whatever kind.” 

Fawnlock was doubled over with giggles now, insufferably amused by John's anxiety. “I'm glad you think this is funny,” he said. “They'll take me away, you know. And they'll find _you_ next, when they go looking for its ship.” 

Suddenly Fawnlock didn't think the situation was funny anymore. Not the threat of being found by humans himself; he was far too crafty to be caught by anyone he didn't want to be caught by. But he was terrified of the idea of John being taken away. Obviously he and John would have to go find the pile of broken metal and fix it so the creature could leave, so that no one would find out about their adventure. That was a shame. He hated having to touch mechanical things, and besides, he would have happily welcomed his new friend to stay and dwell in his forest for as long as it liked. 

Perhaps if they couldn't fix the machine, John would allow it after all.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on a set of prompts I got from my followers on Tumblr as part of a fic-fest. I mixed up all the prompts and wrote the results. The prompts for this fic were as follows:
> 
> thehats: It all starts with a ship crash.  
> fawnjohn: And then suddenly someone was an alien.  
> shadowfireflame: There's a great deal of tentacles.  
> [And then they have sex.]  
> round--robin: But the important thing is that the story is very much a misunderstanding.
> 
> shadowfireflame: It all starts with a cabin in the woods.  
> shadowfireflame: And then suddenly a fog rolls in.  
> type40consultingdetective: There’s a great deal of purple colored things.  
> [And then they have sex.]  
> violetwylde: But the important thing is that the story is very sensual.


End file.
